


Worship of a Broken Doll

by Witchcraftandwine



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blasphemy, Blasphemy TW, F/M, Suffer with me mortals, This is not Happy, WTF IS WRONG WITH ME?, Why do I do this to myself, death tw, duh - Freeform, edited to fix some flow issues and spelling, no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchcraftandwine/pseuds/Witchcraftandwine
Summary: I see her smileI know her nameI just need to reach a little further
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 30





	Worship of a Broken Doll

_'Do you prostrate yourself at my feet?'_

Her words though never spoken echoed to him as he sat. it was wrong in so many ways. He hated it. Maybe this was the true meaning of hell. Never had he allowed this much. In all these years all this time, he had maintained himself. Had been as he was in life, comfortably numb to all things except what amused him. He found joy in only things no one could take from him. In music, in himself, in death that was the only true constant of life.

A drop hit him but he couldn't even flinch away. Damn he hurt.

His whole body was nothing but searing pain, he didn't care though. He didn't care about the horn that had been ripped from his head, or the cut and stabs he had endured, how one arm hung limply broken at his side. His tattered clothing, and broken Staff, the blood that coated him, some of it his, most of it not. None of it mattered.

_'I truly believe we will find redemption.'_

More words, but these ones he knew, she said them to him. He remembered exactly when. He remembered the dark night, laying there she rested a head on his chest tracing lazy cirles with her finger. The closest thing he could come to intimacy and yet, she had never pushed for more, never asked for more than he could give. Was that when she had started working her way through? Was that how she had started to stain him? Was it a stain? He had been black, a deep inky black allowing nothing but dark amusment to fuel him.

But she had come, had dropped inside him, stained? Diluted? He wasn't sure what word would be used, but her presence had begun to fade away that black shield he had built. She had irrevocably marked him with herself. Those who owed him, whose souls belonged to him became real friends, he felt a real care for Niffty, for Husker. Goodness, even Angel Dust and Vaggie, it had grown inside him like a weed. 

He knew he had to blame her for it, it was all her fault, influencing him like this. Surely it was some kind of power what else could it be? He'd expect nothing less of the heir of hell. Oh sinners may mock her for her sweetness and light but her lineage couldn't be changed, no matter what they said or did she would always be a child of hell, a Being far beyond them. 

_'I wouldn't do that though, it would be so empty. You say the funniest things sometimes you know.'_

She had laughed at him when he'd confronted her, demanded to know what magic she was using on him. She didn't deny having such power, but surely she must have done something or he would have left this little project of hers. He'd have had his amusement, laughed his fill and moved on once the entertainment of it was gone… but he hadn't. He had lingered had found himself curious, could she do it? Did he want her to? He couldn't say, what would it mean if she suceeded?

_'What is it you want?'_

She'd been holding him then, she'd pulled his head onto her lap after a particularly long day, he knew she must have been exhausted dealing with protesters but instead when he had sat down she sat there and pulled him over humming faintly as she brushed her fingers through his hair. slow strokes that brought a gentle soothing feeling, stirring a nostalgia he would never speak of outloud.

Why had he allowed such a gentle touch? Why did he let her have control? All those times before he had always been in charge he held her, he touched her, but… he found that moment soothing, and in that peace he had been honest, he didn't know what he wanted.

Maybe that was when he knew she had changed him? Maybe that was when he knew, while he didn't really care about redemption, never had, he wanted it for her. He wanted it for the sinners out there because it would make her happy, make her smile and feel like she had done her best. He wanted that, he wanted her to be happy.

_'Well your honest and that's important.'_

He reached out his arm felt like lead but he needed to touch her. His body blanketed by a steel sheet, so heavy, so weak… what a strange feeling after having so much power for so long. Blood covered fingers touched her feet weakly smearing blood on them as he tried to move closer to her. She had always shined above him something beutiful and untouchable, he smirked faintly at least now he could dirty her a little. Now, when he didn't want to anymore he could smear her in mud and blood and lord over how unclean she was.

Another drop he blinked slowly his vision wasn't as clear anymore, he was having a hard time seeing her face.

She was so beautiful, a real angel, she never belonged down here even if she had been born here. What kind of monster sent her here? Willed her to be born here? If it was all the will of God or another higher power, then wasn't that the worst demand of all?

He chuckled weakly, he had always known about the hypocrasy of it, but seeing her now only cemented how there was nothing to be done. It was funny kind of, but the pain didn't hurt so much anymore.

_'Will you always be there for me?'_

What was she talking about? Of course he would, he'd always be here, did she think anyone could match him? No, he was powerful, unbeatable. Yes he might feel weak now but he would recover, he always did, that was why he was such a threat to so many, nothing could bring him down for long.

_'No one's invincible you know.'_

No one was, she was right about that no one was invincible… he knew that, there was only one constant, only one real truth even here in hell that truth was all.

She spoke again but he couldn't hear her, no, no don't fade, keep talking, talk louder, yell at him, scream at him, but don't let the voice go away. He stared up wait, when had he fallen? Weird, he didn't remember falling. Again, so strange.

He could have been invincible, he could have lasted forever

_'I'll be fine, I can't leave them out there!'_

Don't go

He reached, up oh, she was still there

Good, he'd been so worried. Heh, how funny, the high and mighty radio demon afraid.

She was just there above him, Still talking right? Was she mad at him for being reckless? Probably, but that was ok, he knew he'd wake up and she'd be there, he'd tease her about it. His fingers brushed her foot again it was still smeared with his blood… his blood? Was it all his blood? She glowed above him his beautiful angelic princess. The only one who could fight through that black he had wrapped himself in.

Is was pouring down her, dripping on him. 

Her voice was muffled and tinny no words to hear, hopefully she heard his, she seemed so far away now, had she always had wings? So much red.

Was she speaking still? When had her lips stopped moving? Wait, had they ever moved? He felt so muddled, this was so different to before. His death had been so fast he hadn't even really realized it, one moment alive, the next dead, he couldn't have blinked faster but laying there he knew this was probably what death was supposed to be like.

"Charlie. Red is, supposed to be, my color." He murmured weakly as weakness overtook him and he faded fingers slipping from her still body. There was only the gentle drift of wind in the remains of the hotel in the city where the cries of those desperate to escape the extermination

* * *

When the cleanse passed unmarked by his child's lights Lucifer knew something was wrong. He approached the ruins of her dreams looking over the destruction and the bodies. 

There was no noise here, just rubble, pure destruction, it didn't matter if they believed in redemption or not. No matter how hard she tried he knew It would never have been allowed. No one was permitted to change the way things were, and so no one would. He knew that, he had once foolishly thought breaking away, coming here, abandoning that light was his choice, his will, but nothing that could change the world was ever anyones will but _His_. He had tried so hard to warn her off this foolish mission, he had tried being kind, tried being cruel, but nothing would deter her. He should have tried harder, he thought as walked through the broken ruins, flames had died but embers still glowed in places, smoke mixed with the metallic scent of blood.

Moth and spider? Dead protecting each other, awkward but honest friends.

The winged cat? He could never fly again with those broken wings half torn from his frame.

The insect that had sworn it's life to a devil? A smudge treated as even unworthy of the shoe that stepped on it.

Then of course, the devil and his foolish princess.

Lucifer stood at the spectacle the angels had strung up for him. Who else would it be for, who else could understand would heed the message it told. His daughter hung crucified from the rubble of her dreams pinned with so many spears, so much blood she looked like she was gowned in red, his daughter taken from him. At her feet the radio demon, a devil he had once thought strong enough to protect her. Maybe he had… it seemed like even in death he had loved her, worshipped her he could see the smeared finger prints on her feet, even as he had died he had reached out to her.

Lucifer sighed they would not comeback, not from those wounds, there was nothing to do. But, he would not see them torn apart for meat and so he let his avatar slither from him, the white snake collecting her dear friends so that they all sat around her at least she wouldn't be alone. He knew no one else would remember her, remeber them, but he would. That was his hell, he lifted a hand watching the family his beloved daughter had made become stone a monument that would only matter to him, and one other.

_'Daddy! I promise, you won't have to grieve for cleansings ever again! I'm gonna fix it!'_


End file.
